Beautiful Days in Duckburg
by AgentOfAngst
Summary: Sometimes life isn't like a hurricane. Some days are normal. Some days are calm. What's our favorite family up to when things are ordinary?


**This is a story I'm starting that I intend to add to randomly, whenever I get a whim, that will explore the less adventure-filled days in Duckburg. The calm before or after a storm. **

**This one was Donald's turn. Maybe it'll be Louie next, maybe we won't get another update until 2021, maybe I'll update next week, I don't know. Each story will focus on one character and what they do on their days "off." **

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It was a beautiful day in Duckburg, which usually signaled the start of some explosion or plane crash or some other possible disaster, but one of the most beautiful things about the day was that it was calm. Like the gentle, lulling motion of waves on the ocean. Donald Duck was really enjoying the calmness of the day, making sure everything on his houseboat was in good shape before doing the same for his family. Dewey and Webby were playing a board game in the living room, arguing a bit over the minutia. Huey and Della were working on one of his Junior Woodchuck badges and Louie was in his room drawing up detailed plans for his next business venture. Scrooge was at work. After his family was taken care of, Donald went to therapy.

'"You seem happy, Mr. Duck."

"I am happy. Things are peaceful right now. My family is safe."

"And what if things weren't peaceful right now? Do you think you could hold on to your happiness, or is it situational?"

"Huh?"

"Is your happiness based on things outside of you or inside of you?"

"I'm still not following."

"Imagine with me, for a second, that things weren't peaceful. If you didn't have this calmness if everything was chaos, could you still be happy, Donald?" Donald blinked, thoughtful.

"Yes, of course, I have my family. He thought about Dewey and Webby arguing about who was a better banker in Monopoly (It was Webby), thought about Huey and Della bonding over S'mores, and clever Louie scheming by himself.

"But if you didn't, would you find it in yourself to keep going? Could you find happiness again, of your own creation? It's good that the world is right for you now. You deserve a rest. And I'm glad your family is safe, I hope they remain so. If you can be happy because of them, good! But you can't put all of your eggs in one basket. Your assignment for this week is to look inside of you and try to find some sliver of happiness that is wholly yours, that doesn't depend on the weather or your family. If we can find your personal happiness then we can nurture it. Hold onto this happiness right now, though. Don't be discouraged from enjoying your family and your peace. But if you can find happiness inside of you, perhaps, in the worst-case scenario, your anger won't become self-destructive."

Donald tried to wrap his mind around all of that, eventually understanding what was being said to him.

"I can't lose my family, I won't let it happen."

"I'm sure you won't. I know you understand about planning for the worst and being protective of those you care about. I want you to be ready, should the worst happen, to protect your own happiness. I know that you want to make sure that everyone around you is okay, but you matter too. It's important to take care of yourself." Donald nodded and tried to remember that as he paid for the session and left.

He went back to his houseboat, unsure of this whole "personal happiness" thing. He understood but wasn't too fond of his so-called situational happiness problem. Still, it was a beautiful day. So he sat on the deck, feeling the gorgeous breeze and the slow, gentle rocking of the boat. What made him happy as a kid? His immediate thought was of Della, their childhood of running around together, laughing, playing, poking fun at each other, facing each danger as a duo. He, as his counselor suggested, let himself feel that joy, warm like the sun on his face. Then he separated himself from Della, separated himself from his kids and Scrooge. He tried to strain out all of the bits of his family and see what was left and only one thing came to mind. As soon as it clicked he jolted from his chair and dashed inside.

He came back with his acoustic guitar, sitting back down and beginning to play. His eyes closed when he touched the first string and he realized that he was hesitating before he moved to the next string. Listening, not for the chords but for the sound of others. Like he was expecting interruption, expecting to have to throw aside this brief happiness to take care of someone else. But no interruption came. So he moved to the second string, pushing through the hesitation, letting himself enjoy the moment without dreading the next. He took a deep breath, willing the next breath to be easy.

Music wasn't situational. He felt good when he let himself be carried away by the guitar. He was happy when he was alone or performing with the Caballeros. But if he didn't have an instrument in his hands or bandmates by his side, it didn't diminish the music inside of him. There was one song that replayed in his mind almost constantly and his fingers reached for the chords now.

"Face each new sun, with eyes clear and true, unafraid of the unknown, because I'll face it all with you." The lullaby his sister had written for the boys gave him immense comfort. It gave him strength, too, helped him not be afraid, helped him face each new day, helped him keep Della with him when she'd been gone.

Those had been the hardest years of his life. Mourning his sister, loathing his uncle, feeling like he was failing his boys. He had frequently gone to counseling during his roughest patches, but it had still taken him a long time to feel comfortable facing the unknown. Now, he continued to attend counseling searching not for that bravery and security, but for something more. His own personal happiness. Sitting on his houseboat playing music, he had a feeling that he was making good progress. And he would keep working at it as long as he needed to.

He hadn't realized it was getting late, he'd been so focused on his music for several hours now.

"Uncle Donald!" Huey's voice called over the sound of the guitar. He looked up to see his kids, Della standing a bit further back.

"Are you coming to dinner?" Dewey asked.

"Oh yeah, coming." He set his guitar down with a smile and walked inside with his family. It had been a beautiful day in Duckburg.


End file.
